A Perfect Design
by Fallon-Idalia
Summary: Born as part of an experiment to test the limits of human biotics, Eira has known nothing save the secret lab she has been confined to since birth. When her life is turned on end, she finds herself a part of a suicide mission under the charge of Commander Shepard. As the lies her life has been built upon unravel, her relationship with Shepard deepens to a level neither anticipated.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Mass Effect universe; I'm merely playing with the wonderful world Bioware created. Characters you do not recognize from the series however are of my own creation and belong to me. There will be changes to the in-game storyline and other aspects of the universe so do not expect this to merely be a retelling of the game as we know it. This story will contain scenes of a very mature nature (sex, violence, gore, torture, angst, etc.) so please consider yourself warned.

**A/N:** This story came together due to my dissatisfaction with the romance options for M!Shep in ME2. Don't get me wrong, I love Tali but I wish we could see her. I don't mind Jack and Miranda, but they didn't do anything for me as a LI for Shepard (and I mean come on, we can only listen to Miranda bitch about being perfect for so long). And seriously, don't even get me started on Ashley!

So I developed the idea for this story to give M!Shep the attention he deserves and delve into his backstory. Cause I mean come on, it isn't until ME3 that Shepard is given the option for expressing how worn out he is and that's just wrong! I require more delicious angst!

Anywho, ranting aside…

Any and all reviews are greatly appreciated and I thank you in advance for giving this story a read. The next chapter will be up soon and I'll be digging into the meat of the story! All the best, - Fallon.

**Prologue**

_Satent System, Pylos Nebula, December of 2162_

Blood-curdling screams echoed down the narrow, sterile hallways of the facility. Lights cut in and out as the generator strained, pushing all of its juice into the containment cell in the center of the station. The station's staff hurried toward the screams.

The network of winding hallways converged on the containment cell, the source of the pained screams.

The cell was surrounded by thick walls with heavy metal and tech cores designed to repel any rays of refined element zero and radiation which sought escape. In the control room, a dozen scientists and doctors viewed their subject on screens from cameras situated in the cell. All of them remained straight faced at the image on their screens, seemingly unmoved by the subject's agony and cries for mercy.

They had a job to do and their pockets were well-lined for them to do it. Their employer demanded results and the stakes were high – Project Valkyrie needed to succeed.

Inside the cell, the subject, a young woman, struggled against the restraints which bound her to the exam table. There were numerous IVs in her arms, neck and legs and tubes criss-cross over her body to connect to the machines that surrounded her. Based on the fact that she was still alive, she could only assume some of what was being given to her through the IVs was meant to nourish her. A very small part of her was grateful for it, even if it was insufficient to sustain her beyond the next four months.

A muggy heat surrounded her and she choked on a sob.

Sweat covered her brow and dripped down her face, matting her brown hair to her neck. Weak and sickly, there were dark circles under her sunken eyes and she fought to merely keep them open. But she knew she had to stay alert and fight back, if not for herself but for the baby growing inside of her.

At five months pregnant, her stomach was the only part of her that wasn't thin. In the time she had been in her cell, the subject of her captor's experiments, her only source of comfort was the periodic movement inside of her. When she was at her lowest, her child would kick and remind her why she couldn't close her eyes and give in to what was being done to her.

_What was being done…_

Tears welled up in her eyes. For all the physical pain she was going through, she could only guess at what was happening to her unborn child. Technicians had been in her cell, wearing heavy, high tech suits designed to withstand exposure to high levels of eezo, to poke and prod her swollen belly. She still remembered the panic that had overcame her when they had first approached her with a massive needle and held her down as it was inserted into her stomach.

She shivered and slowly raised a weak, thin hand to her stomach. Her child moved inside of her and she gave her stomach a small rub, hoping that it was enough to sooth the tiny life growing inside of her.

That small action exhausted her and her hand fell back onto the table like it weighed a ton.

She whimpered and looked around her, finally noticing the tech that had entered the room and was now entering something into his omni-tool.

She searched for her voice.

"W-Why are you doing this?"

The tech looked up, clearly surprised to see that she had the energy to form a sentence. Since her arrival she'd done nothing but scream; her speaking limited to 'please' and 'don't'. After all, in the weeks she had been here nearly constant testing had been done. It was necessary if the results their employer desired were to be achieved. But the physical effects on the woman were extreme. He doubted she would even be able to stand if they allowed her to try.

His focus returned to his omni-tool, "I'm not at liberty to disclose that information to you, miss. Suffice to say your sacrifice will be for the betterment of humanity."

Her heart sank.

_I'm not going to survive this…_

She inhaled deeply and tried to steady her quivering lip, "My baby…"

"Your daughter will usher in a new age for human biotics." The tech said in a cold voice, "You should be proud to be the vessel for such a subject."

_A girl…I'm having a girl…_

The elation of knowing her child's sex was overshadowed by suffocating fear as the tech's words sunk in. She would die…and her captors would have her baby girl to do with as they saw fit. For all she knew, they planned more experiments for her child once she was born. Her child would know pain and suffering, hardship and sorrow…

And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

She clenched her teeth as anger flooded over her to dampen the fear.

"M-My little girl isn't y-your play-thing…"

The tech sighed in frustration and looked up from his omni-tool to approach the table she was strapped down to. She could only see his eyes through the mask he wore, but it was enough for her to see how very little he cared for her suffering or her pleas.

_Cold…so cold…_

He paused in his approach and raised his hand to his ear; to what she could only assume was an earpiece his mask concealed.

"Understood," the tech turned to leave, "and for the record, Mrs. Eklund, _she_ won't be our 'play-thing'…she will be our future."

The door sealed with a hiss behind him and the lights in her cell dimmed.

She stiffened on the table and squeezed her eyes shut as another wave of eezo was pumped into the room.

As her the muscles of her body began to seize and pinch, she arched off the table and tears welled in her eyes.

_This is it…this is how I die…_

She screamed, her lungs burning from the effort and the eezo she couldn't help but breathe in. The tiny particles of eezo invaded her every cell, coursed through her veins and took root in her heart, changing her at a level only the technicians and doctors monitoring her could see.

_My baby…my sweet girl…I'm so sorry._

Her agonized, shrill cries echoed down the corridors, past cold figures that went about their business as usual.


	2. Reflections

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Mass Effect, save the OCs you will encounter in this particular story. It will not merely be a re-telling of the ME story as we know it, so expect changes and (hopefully) surprising and enjoyable twists! This story is rated M for a reason and will contain future scenes of violence, gore, sex, and various other mature situations. There will also be copious amounts of wonderful, wonderful angst. Please consider yourself warned.

*****Note:** My Shepard has the default facial settings the game provides you with because, hell, why mess with perfection? This story picks up in the world of ME2 and is expected to continue in to ME3 and beyond.

I hope you enjoy this story! Any and all reviews are appreciated! – Fallon.

**Chapter One**

_Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, Aboard the Normandy SR-2, 2185_

Shepard found the clasps of his armour without looking and allowed the pieces to fall to the floor, not caring where they ended up.

He groaned as his chest piece came off and his ribs flared, the hit he'd taken from the heavy mech on Freedom's Progress evidently having broken a few.

He bit the inside of his lip as he slowly worked the sweat soaked undershirt up and over his head, letting out a pained hiss as he tossed it across the room.

He pressed his fingers to his side and counted two broken ribs. As the pain flared up again, he cursed himself for being so sloppy.

While investigating the disappearance of every human in Freedom's Progress, they'd come across a group of quarians led by Tali who were searching for Veetor, a young and nervous member of the Fleet on Pilgrimage. He'd been so relieved to see her again, but her suspicion was evident enough and that had hurt more than he'd expected it to.

_I can't blame her for being cautious…_

They'd broken up into two teams to fight their way past the mechs Veetor had reprogramed only to be confronted with a massive heavy mech. He hated being in a situation like that, confronted by an imposing enemy with two unknowns watching his back. All the training in the world didn't count for anything if you couldn't trust the people behind you.

He hoped they'd end up proving themselves to him. If he was going to take on the Collectors he needed more than their assurances and more trusted faces than just Joker.

Shepard stripped off the remaining pieces of armour and stepped into the bathroom. As he approached the shower, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and stopped.

As much as his instincts told him not to trust Cerberus, he was grateful for being given a second chance. That being said, looking at his reflection made him sick.

Glowing orange lines spread across his chest and arms in bursts that wrapped around his body like cracks in armour, reminding him that he was more cybernetics and tech than man now. The tattoos he'd had when he died remained, bringing back painful memories of his life prior to the Alliance, and while it was evident Miranda and her team had taken great lengths at restoring the detail etched in his skin, he wished she'd left them out.

Now his left arm, tattooed from collar bone to wrist, bore the same evidence of cybernetic upgrades the rest of his body did, bits of technology knitting his skin together and filling in where bone was missing, as well as the images of battling demons, dragons, smoke and fire he'd died with.

The scars that had marred his chest and stomach were gone and the skin over his chiseled stomach was tight and fresh, devoid of all evidence of his years of military service. Gone too was the thick scar that had wrapped around his right thigh, a souvenir from an encounter with batarian bouncer on Omega during his youth. The patches of discolouration that had been on his calves had been erased, all evidence of those thick, rough scars was gone but how he'd earned them – the events of Akuze – remained.

Memories of gore and screams so vivid a shiver ran down his spine trailed through his mind…

He couldn't help but wish Miranda's team had had the decency to omit those memories from his mind, maybe then the nightmares would subside.

But they had only been interested in bringing him back as he had been, not chipping away at memories which might have compromised that.

He turned around and looked over his shoulder to see that the tattoo of a massive sun also remained, dominating the majority of his upper back. Only now a rather large patch of cybernetic lines obscured it, adding its orange glow to the bursts of the sun's rays which had been so _lovingly _applied to his skin.

Cursing under his breath, Shepard quickly pivoted on his heels and punched the mirror with every ounce of strength he possessed. Fueled by anger and self-loathing, he didn't want to see the evidence of his death and revival any longer. The mirror shattered out in ripples from where his fist made contact, spreading across the mirror until no inch of clear, usable mirror remained.

Shepard clenched his teeth as his knuckles throbbed and blood flowed over his fingers, not bothering with looking down at the damage and instead headed to the shower.

He turned the water on and sighed as the ice cold water flowed down his back. He didn't move to change the temperature even though it made his teeth chatter despite his best efforts to control it. Cold showers were something he'd grown accustomed to in the military. He'd never exceeded the regulation three minute limit placed on such a _luxury_, never once used an ounce of warm water, because that was what was expected of him as a solider. Discomfort was dealt with, endured, not complained about.

And those limits and regulations - while truly miserable at times - were something Shepard had always abided by and never questioned. The strictness of the order and dedication the Alliance demanded of him gave him something secure and structured to cling onto and shape himself by. It had saved him during a time in his life when self-destruction and anger had dominated him. More than that, he'd found what he was good at - his place in life.

Once - and only once - had he gone against the Alliance regs he'd always believed so strongly in.

_Ash…_

He pressed his forehead against the cold metal of the shower and closed his eyes. Not knowing where she was ate away at him and was all he had thought about since leaving Lazarus Station. She was his slip up, his one selfish act since joining the Alliance. And his feelings for her had cost him; Kaidan was dead because of him, because of a call he'd made.

His hand pulsed with pain as he clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles went white. Blood seeping between his fingers and was washed away, the cold water numbing his bloodied knuckles.

Two years…he'd lost two years.

The tension waned from his body and he gave a frustrated sigh as the reality of the past twenty-four hours set in.

Two years had come and gone…

And he was smart enough to know he wasn't going to be able to get them back.

* * *

_Satent System, Pylos Nebula, Nafna Station, 2185_

With a flick of her wrist, Eira sent the wave of mechs approaching her hurdling through the air. They collided with the reinforced wall with a loud thud and screech, metal scraping against metal, pieces of armour plating and tech shattering upon impact and flying out in every direction. She redirected her biotic energy, backing up her shields as pieces of the mechs flew past her.

The siren sounded throughout the hall, signaling the start of another round.

Over the whine of the siren Eira heard the hiss of an access hatch open and the tell-tale sounds of a mech emerging.

She reacted, ducking out of the way with a roll, just in time to avoid a missile the heavy mech had shot at her. It hit the crates piled in the corner of the room, sending large chunks of jagged metal shooting through the air.

Again she flared her barriers and redirected the shrapnel toward the mech, burying them in the mech's joints and causing its movements to slow. It tried to raise its arm to fire off another missile, but it only made it to a point before jamming, a piece of metal jutting out from its shoulder.

Eira spun out of cover and quickly called a mass of biotic energy to her fingertips. She allowed the energy to settle in her palm only for a moment, taking that chance to relish the invigorating feeling of that raw energy coursing through her, before heaving it at the mech with a strained groan. Her biotic blast spiraled through the air and hit the mech with a deafening smack. She remained in control and with a twist of her fingers, forced the blue waves of energy into the holes the shrapnel had left in its armour. The mech's form groaned as she exploited its weaknesses and ripped it apart from the inside.

With one final blast of energy, Eira reduced the mech to a pile of smouldering pieces.

Panting, she stumbled backwards and slouched forward, resting her hands on her knees as she regained control of her erratic heartbeat.

She heard the loudspeaker buzz and crackle as it was activated.

"Enough, Eira, you can come out now."

Taking in a deep breath, she walked to the exit on the other side of the room.

This had been the third time this week she had been in the combat simulation room and she was exhausted. The faint beginning of a migraine pulsed in her temples and was made considerably worse by the bright lights she had been training under. She paused in her step, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger as she tightly clenched her eyes shut.

_Damn these lights!_

She doubted she could take another round anytime soon, but she knew better than to speak of limitations to Corrine.

She was Project Valkyrie…she had none.

Eira ascended the stairs and entered the control room for the simulator. Corrine quickly dismissed the techs, who all scurried from the room like terrified children, and began typing her findings into the computer.

"You did well today." She said without looking up, "How are you feeling?"

Eira bit the inside of her lip.

Corrine Knowles was the head of Project Valkyrie, a brilliant scientist and the closest thing to a mother Eira had. She was stern, almost cold at times, but she had always insisted that everything she did was for Eira's own good. And Corinne did care about her. When tests and training pushed Eira too hard, she was always there to comfort her through headaches that brought her to her knees and, when she was a little girl, fend of the nightmares and fears of monsters under the bed.

Eira didn't want to let her down.

"It felt amazing taking down that last mech," not a lie, "I felt in control of my biotics, like I was in my element."

Corrine turned to her, a satisfied grin on her face, "Excellent. This is your element, dear. You were moulded for combat; we've fallen woefully behind in preparing you for that, but you've done well." Her smile faded some, "However I sense a 'but' coming up."

Eira shifted uncomfortably on her feet, the weight of Corrine's gaze making her feel incredibly small.

"But…the lights are still a problem." She nervously clasped her hands together and twisted her fingers, "They make the headaches worse."

She took a small step back, preparing herself for the consequences her disappointment was sure to raise. Mainly, that look in Corrine's eyes she dreaded; the look that could make her feel like she was a child again getting scolded for using her biotics to pull pranks on the techs.

Corrine sighed and ran her hands through her dark brown hair, "Have you been meditating like your doctor recommended?"

Eira's gaze fell to the floor, "Y-Yes. Before lights out every night, I promise."

Corrine's fist slammed down on the desk and Eira jumped despite her best efforts not to.

"Then why does this problem remain, Eira!"

Tense silence hung in the air around them.

Eira's lips parted as if to speak, but the words remained caught on the tip of her tongue.

Corrine removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes.

"I'm sorry, dear, I'm just tired. I shouldn't be taking it out on you." She looked back up, the hint of a reassuring smile on her lips, "Head to bed, Eira, you look like death."

Eira forced herself to smile, thanked Corrine, and made the long and lonely walk back to her room.

* * *

She passed the security checkpoints leading up to her room without saying a word. Her guards knew the routine; they'd been doing it every day and night for as long as she had.

Eira stepped into her room and immediately dimmed the lights. Her head was throbbing, the confrontation with Corrine evidently enough to ignite a full blown migraine, and a stubborn pain had settled in behind her eyes, causing them to tear up.

Groggy and exhausted, Eira stumbled into the bathroom, stripping off pieces of sweat soaked clothing as she went. She brushed back the stray pieces of hair that had worked themselves free of her long braid out of her face and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

Her eyes would have been blue if not for the red tint that distorted them, making them appear lavender to those who only took a quick glance. Her skin was stark pale save for a few sporadic freckles on her shoulders that seemed horribly out of place against skin so white. Eira grumbled under her breath and set about unweaving her hair from the single, long braid that ran down her back. Seemingly devoid of all colour, her silvery white hair only revealed its slight tinges of blond under the right light. She brushed it out using her fingers and frowned.

Corrine had told her it had been a consequence of the eezo she'd be exposed to as a babe in her mother's stomach. The exposure had killed her mother, but Eira survived and had been 'gifted' with biotic abilities so peculiar they were unlike anything ever observed in humans – or so Corrine claimed.

She didn't know what was so special about her biotics; no one had ever come out and told her what made her worthy of any attention.

As far as she was concerned, her biotics were nothing remarkable.

It was just one more thing to blame on element zero.

* * *

Eira woke up to the sound of panicked voices echoing down the corridor outside her bedroom. She rolled over and reached blindly for her alarm clock, finding it and bringing it closer to read the time through foggy eyes. It was late and she groaned in fatigue and frustration at the interruption.

She rolled over onto her back, squeezed her eyes closed and tried to wish herself back to sleep.

Someone started banging on her door.

Eira opened her eyes and looked at her door, silently hoping to will the person away.

She'd been having a wonderful dream and longed to return to it. In it, her world was bigger than the space station she'd called home her entire life and she had a real mother, even a father. Her skin, hair and eyes had been normal and her headaches – and her biotics – were non-existent.

_Please let me go back to that…_

When the sound didn't fade and instead grew closer, she slipped out of bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." She murmured under her breath in annoyance, more to herself than whoever was banging on her door.

She groaned as the offensive sound made her headache, and by effect, her biotics flare.

Her life had always been quiet. There was the hum of generators, the constant sound of fans coming from the vents above, and the buzzing of whichever machine they had her hooked up to, coupled with the frantic typing of a nameless lab assistant. Only recently had the sounds of the combat simulator been added to that choir, but even now they were at risk of blending into the haze that was her everyday life. That haze, those routines and tests were the noises that filled the days of her life, each of which bled into the other and created a vicious, monotonous cycle.

This new sound had her curious, and scared too if she was honest with herself.

Before she had a chance to reach the door controls, Corrine forced her way through, followed by three armed lab assistants, all of which looked terrified of the very guns they were holding.

"Corrine, what's going on?" Eira asked in a shaky voice, the frazzled look on the scientist's face doing nothing to quiet her own mounting fears.

In the nearly twenty years she had been under Corinne's care, she had never known the woman to wear her emotions so clearly on her face. But now, now she could see everything.

Something was very, very wrong.

"We've got to go, dear." Corinne answered as she crossed the room and grabbed Eira by the wrist, "It isn't safe for you here any more."

Panic shot through her.

_She's scared…Corinne is scared…_

Eira shook her head as if to clear a fog that muddled her mind, confused by the enter scene that was playing out before her. "What? What do you mean?"

The ground shook and shouts rose from further down the corridor. Corrine shouted over her shoulder for the lab assistants to man the door and then opened the interface of her omni-tool.

"What…what are you doing?" Eira stammered as she watched Corinne work, hopeful for an answer from the woman.

Corinne ignored her and instead spoke into her omni-tool.

"Illusive Man, this is Doctor Corinne Knowles, director of Project Valkyrie on Nafna Station. We've been boarded by an unknown enemy and are suffering heavy losses." She looked at Eira, "Project Valkyrie is secure for the time being but we _need_ backup. Repeat, the project _needs_ extraction!"


	3. Taking the Station

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Mass Effect, save the OCs you will encounter in this particular story. It will not merely be a re-telling of the ME story as we know it, so expect changes and (hopefully) surprising and enjoyable twists! This story is rated M for a reason and will contain future scenes of violence, gore, sex, and various other mature situations. There will also be copious amounts of wonderful, wonderful angst. Please consider yourself warned.

*****Note:** My Shepard has the default facial settings the game provides you with because, hell, why mess with perfection? This story picks up in the world of ME2 and is expected to continue in to ME3 and beyond.

I'm terribly sorry for the delay in updating, folks. I've been working a lot and dealing with a loss in the family, so I haven't been writing as much. I hope this makes up for my tardiness. Any and all reviews are appreciated! – Fallon.

**Chapter Two**

_Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, 2185_

Shepard awoke in the midst of a nightmare of the worst sort; that being a memory which replayed itself in his mind again and again.

In it he was trying to reach what remained of his squad on Akuze. He could hear them screaming, hear them fighting back with a hail of gunfire, but the dream always ended as it had in reality – with him standing over the dead bodies of a dozen marines, a dozen friends.

He'd thought he had dealt with the memories and the guilt Akuze left him with but his resurrection seemed to have reopened old wounds and left him with new uncertainties.

Shepard sat up in bed and muttered a curse under his breath as he wiped the cold sweat from his brow.

Fifty marines had died on Akuze and they'd all hailed him as the only survivor, the one who triumphed against a field of raging thresher maws. There he was - an upstanding example of the tenacity and strength of humanity.

Shepard wasn't sure if he'd heard bullshit of a greater magnitude.

"Commander," an elegant, electronic voice sounded in his cabin, "There is an incoming transmission from the Illusive Man."

Shepard sighed, forced energy to his tired body and set about retrieving the scattered pieces of his Cerberus uniform.

He didn't bother trying to conceal the frustration in his voice, "What does he want, EDI?"

He had just received the dossiers from the Illusive Man not long ago. Mordin Solus was already aboard and filing requisition requests faster than EDI could fill them and Shepard had planned on setting out to find "Archangel" next while in the system. There were others he had to find as well, a convict, a warlord, a supposedly expert hacker on the Citadel - many more before he'd expected to hear from the head of Cerberus again.

"Unknown," EDI responded, "But it does seem urgent, Commander, it is being sent through a heavily encrypted channel reserved for mission-critical correspondence."

Shepard hated feeling like he was at the beck-and-call of the Illusive Man. He didn't want to work with them, didn't want anything to do with them. But they were the only one's doing anything to stop the Collectors and the Reapers and working with them was better than sitting around and doing nothing.

Sitting idle had never been programed into him, even prior to his reconstruction.

"Have Joker patch him though," Shepard said with a heavy sigh as he left his cabin, "I'll take it in the comm room."

* * *

The Illusive Man took a long drag of his cigarette as the emergency transmission from Nafna Station replayed from his console.

"_Project Valkyrie is secure for the time being but we need backup. Repeat, the project needs extraction!"_

The newly arisen complication frustrated him. The Collectors and Lazarus demanded his full attention but he couldn't deny the unique opportunity this new development presented. 'Valkyrie' was important, she was unique and worth the resources he had allocated for the project over the past twenty years – never once had he doubted that. But although she had received tactical training she had never experienced real combat. It was time that was rectified, time to see if his investment had paid off.

After all, Shepard needed the best of the best if he was to succeed and 'Valkyrie's' addition to the crew held the possibility of untold benefits.

If Shepard could get there in time to secure her.

The familiar ringing tone of the comm link sounded, interrupting the recording of Knowles. The Illusive Man turned in his chair to face the hologram of Shepard, tapping off the ashes of his cigarette before taking another long, savouring drag.

"Shepard," He started, the Commander's name hanging in the air for one tense moment, "I've been informed that Mordin Solus has taken residence in the Normandy's tech lab."

Shepard crossed his arms, "Let's cut to the chase, Illusive Man. Keep this as short as we can."

The Illusive Man gave a curt nod, "As 'to the point' as ever, Shepard. It's good to see more proof of Operative Lawson's success in resorting you to the man you were."

"Get to the _point_, Illusive Man."

"I've received an emergency transmission from one of our top secret research labs in the Pylos Nebula. Nafna Station, orbiting Raisaris, has been overrun by an unknown enemy, a group of mercenaries unidentified at present. We've not heard from the head of the facility, Doctor Corrine Knowles, since she sent her initial emergency transmission."

He punched in the command on his console, and the recording replayed for Shepard to hear.

"_Illusive Man, this is Doctor Corinne Knowles, director of Project Valkyrie on Nafna Station. We've been boarded by an unknown enemy and are suffering heavy losses. Project Valkyrie is secure for the time being but we need backup. Repeat, the project needs extraction!"_

The panic in the woman's voice was obvious enough and the faint sound of gunfire in the background was likely the cause of it. Shepard had never heard of this 'Project Valkyrie' before, but he wasn't surprised that Cerberus had other, secret projects going on other than Lazarus, the project in which he was brought back.

"What is 'Valkyrie'?" He asked, hoping for more information about what or who these mercenaries wanted so desperately that they would raid a likely well-fortified Cerberus station.

"You have to understand, Shepard, this project is top secret. Not even Miss Lawson knows of its existence."

"If I'm going to retrieve 'Valkyrie' I need to know a bit about it." Shepard rationalized.

The Illusive Man hesitated. He wanted to keep his cards close to his chest, but he also knew Shepard was right. Still, that didn't mean Shepard needed to know everything, just enough to execute the mission successfully.

"'Valkyrie' isn't a 'what' or 'it' but a 'who'. She was born in May of 2163, making her twenty-two years old at present. Her mother was exposed to levels of eezo and radiation in a lab accident when she was five months pregnant. She survived long enough to give birth to 'Valkyrie'."

Shepard was skeptical. He knew what the Illusive Man was getting to and was curious what made someone so young a potential recruit for the mission. "What makes this girl worth the investment?"

"The element and radiation gave her biotic abilities like nothing humanity has ever seen, Shepard. She's unique, one of a kind. Definitely someone worth picking up to take on the Collectors, don't you think?"

"Has she had combat training? I can't have a weak link on this mission."

The Illusive Man butted his cigarette, flicking remnants aside. "I wouldn't send _you_ after her if I didn't think she'd be worth it, Shepard. Recent reports coming out of Nafna have 'Valkyrie's' combat simulation scores as being impressive. It's time she was put to the test in the field and I'll be damned if I let common thugs steal such a valuable resource away from us."

Us? Or you? Shepard thought to himself.

"You've convinced me," He relented, "How will I know who 'Valkyrie' is once I'm there?"

"As a consequence of her exposure to such high levels of radioactive materials in the womb, the girl has albinism. Her hair, skin and eyes lack pigment. Believe me, she'll stick out."

Shepard nodded, "Understood. Does she have a name?"

"Of course. Her guardians named her Eira."

* * *

_Satent System, Pylos Nebula, on approach to Nafna Station_

The shuttle hummed with a rhythmic pulse that was all too familiar to him. It had always had the power to banish even the most intense feelings of unease and was something Shepard relied on regularly to center himself before hitting the ground.

"EDI, what else can you tell us about 'Valkyrie'?" Shepard asked as his heart rate evened out, the hum of the shuttle's engine doing its job.

EDI's hologram image appeared in the shuttle.

"'Project Valkyrie', also named 'Eira', was born on Nafna Station in 2163. Name is derived from human Norse mythology. 'Eir' – goddess of medicine and a Valkyrie – an angel like being said to have the power to choose who lives and dies in battle." She paused, contemplating what she'd say next, "Ironically, according to my findings the name 'Eira' means 'snow' in Welsh."

Miranda gave a sarcastic chuckle as she popped a thermal clip into her pistol, "Most definitely a reference to her albinism. Whoever named her must have had a sense of humor."

"Anything else?" Shepard asked as he went over his own weapons.

"Going over submitted reports from Dr. Knowles, it seems Eira's biotic abilities are remarkable. They manifested young, when she was only two years old."

"How is that possible?" Jacob asked, "The abilities of biotics appear in adolescence."

"I am merely going off of Cerberus reports I've been provided with, Operative Taylor," EDI explained, "there is little explanation of why they appeared so young in her or what implant she has to harness such power. The levels of element zero and radiation she and her mother were exposed to are astronomically high however, perhaps that is why."

"It was enough to kill her mother," Shepard pointed out, "don't most women exposed to eezo while pregnant survive themselves?"

His thoughts drifted back to Kaidan and he swallowed hard as he looked away from Jacob and Miranda, trying to hide how unsettled that memory made him.

"They do," Jacob said, "my mother's still alive and kickin'. If her mother died, she was likely at the center of the leak, not downwind like most. Containment procedures in the event of lab accidents are advanced though. Beats me why her mother was so heavily exposed."

Miranda scowled, "None of this matters right now. If she's strong, great, we need all the help we can get to take down the Collectors. Knowing why isn't going to help us get her out of the station. We can ask questions later."

"Of course," Jacob nodded to her and turned to Shepard, "What's our plan of attack, Commander?"

EDI pulled up the station's schematics. Inside, the station was a maze of winding corridors and side passages. In its center there appeared to be a large single room from which all hallways sprouted out from – a core of sorts.

"I suggest entering here, Shepard," she highlighted an entrance on the far side of the base, "the living quarters are nearby and it is likely you will find the girl thereabouts."

"Not in this main chamber?" Miranda pointed to the large room, seemingly the core of the station.

"Unlikely, station scans indicate it is uninhabitable – full of radioactive gases that are likely bleed off from the station's true core. The dark energy inside appears highly imbalanced with static energy. I recommend avoiding this area."

"That complicates things." Shepard said in a grumble, "If it is a bleed the station's a ticking time bomb. Funny the Illusive Man didn't mention it…"

"Maybe he didn't know." Jacob offered.

"The Illusive Man doesn't strike me as the type to be left in the dark on any aspect of a project." Shepard said with a frown, unsettled by the development, "Especially one he claims to place high importance on."

"Again these are questions for another time," Miranda stood and approached the hatch, "We're nearly there," she said with a glance at the monitors, "Let's get this done."

"Agreed." Jacob stood to join her, "Maybe this 'Valkyrie' will have some answers for us."

A muted hiss echoed through the shuttle as the engine died down to make a controlled approach to the station's docking port. It jerked slightly as it made contact, and then it was silent.

Shepard knew that while their approach may have been cloaked, their docking was undoubtedly noted by the mercenaries within and that trouble would be approaching them quickly.

"There's only one way to find out," Shepard cocked his shotgun, "Let's lock and load."

The hatch opened and the sounds of gunfire and screams filled the shuttle.

Shepard raised his gun, "Move out!"

* * *

Eira scurried under the desk, pulling her knees to her chest and hugging them tightly so she was as small as possible. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for the nightmare to end. Outside the room, gunfire continued and was punctuated by pained, sudden screams as lab personnel fell to the mercenaries that flooded into the facility.

She had been separated from Corrine in the chaos and the gun the doctor had pressed into her hands had long since run out of ammo.

_What do these people want from me!_

Another scream ripped through the air and she covered her ears with her hands.

Tears fell unbidden down her cheeks as her mind raced to find a way out, a way to find Corrine and get somewhere safe.

_What do I do? What do I do!_

She bit her lip as her biotics flared, her panic drawing the energy out of her, urging it out of her every pore. It flowed over her skin until she was covered in a strong barrier. It did nothing to mute the sounds of battle, but it made her feel more secure, safe.

Eira poked her head out around the corner of the desk and saw the mercenaries flooding into the docking bay through the large window in the office that looked down on the massive open space. The hatch opened and three seemingly well-armed soldiers entered the bay, drawing the fire of the mercs who had gunned down the majority of the station's staff. She saw them take cover behind the crates and begin picking off those who stood against them. She was too far away however to see if their armour bore the Cerberus logo.

_Who are they?_

They were taking down the mercs, but were they a new enemy? Another group who wanted to steal her away?

_Corrine…I need to find Corrine. She'll know if I can trust them._

Eira swallowed hard, gathering up her courage, and slipped out of the office.


	4. Beginning of the End

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Mass Effect, save the OCs you will encounter in this particular story. It will not merely be a re-telling of the ME story as we know it, so expect changes and (hopefully) surprising and enjoyable twists! This story is rated M for a reason and will contain future scenes of violence, gore, sex, and various other mature situations. There will also be copious amounts of wonderful, wonderful angst. Please consider yourself warned.

*****Note:** My Shepard has the default facial settings the game provides you with because, hell, why mess with perfection? This story picks up in the world of ME2 and is expected to continue in to ME3 and beyond.

This is just an transition chapter of sorts, folks. Next chapter things are really going to hit the fan for Eira!

Any and all reviews are appreciated! – Fallon.

**Chapter Three**

"_A lie told often enough becomes the truth" – Vladimir Lenin_

Eira hurried down the corridor, her bare feet treading softly on the cold metal floor. In the distance behind her, she could hear the sounds of gunfire dying down and voices rising. She knew what that meant, that likely the mercenaries had killed everyone, and she immediately feared for Corrine.

As hard as Corrine pushed her, the doctor and the life she'd led on the station was all Eira had ever known. Corrine was cold but constant, distant yet strangely reassuring. It didn't seem possible that she could be taken from her or that the life she had known could crumble away into something else; and yet Eira couldn't deny the feeling of impending change that was washing over her. The tide was coming in and would inevitably sweep away everything she'd ever known. The sense of its uneasy approach made her stomach churn and her heart race.

What life would be left for her without the station? Without Corrine and the seemingly endless tests and trials she put before her?

She slipped into a stairwell and paused, leaning against the wall as she caught her breath.

The answer was obvious enough and yet admitting it to herself was a monumental task. Her body trembled as every ounce of strength in her body threatened to leave her.

Whomever it was attacking the station, they clearly had no intentions of taking hostages. Eira had passed the bodies of dozens of Cerberus personnel since fleeing the docking bay. This was no simulation, people were dying and she had no reason to assume she would be spared a similar fate.

Before they had been separated, Corrine had seemed to believe that the mercs were after her, but Eira assumed that had to be a mistake. However unique she might be, surely she wasn't worth slaughtering dozens of people? Her life couldn't have been worth more than all of theirs, no amount of skill could justify loss of life at such a disgusting scale!

Eira continued down the stairs. She had never been in this part of the facility before and wasn't sure where she was headed but she knew she had to move. Staying still guaranteed the mercs would find her and while sprinting through the facility blind was a weak plan, it was something.

She inhaled sharply as fear sunk deeper into her bones, and forced one foot in front of the other.

* * *

Corrine had lost her colleagues early on. She hadn't mourned for them, not as they fell one by one around her. They were dead weight from the beginning, expendable. Unfortunately she had also lost 'Valkyrie' – the only thing of value on the entire station.

Pissed off and still in disbelief that this day had come so soon, she paused to collect herself. She crouched down low behind a stack of crates in the smaller secondary hanger and checked her supply of thermal clips.

"Fuck!" She hissed as she was faced with a mere single clip remaining, the others clanging together empty in her lab coat pocket.

She'd never had the chance to hear if her message to the Illusive Man had gotten through, but she wasn't going to wait around for help to arrive. There were half a dozen shuttles operational in the bay she was in now, all that remained was finding Valkyrie before the mercs did.

Over twenty years she had sunk into this project. She'd given up everything, staking her career and her life on the chance the kid would amount to what her superiors suspected she could be. Now that real progress was being had, now that Valkyrie was truly flourishing, everything Corrine had worked for was at risk of disintegrating.

_Fuck the mercs, this is my project! My life's work!_

Corrine peaked out from cover, the faint sounds of gunfire growing all the more distant, and saw a single man enter the hanger, his gaze fixed on her as if he had known she was there all along.

His gun wasn't raised but remained in his hand, held loose and relaxed at his side. She guessed he was in his late forties at most, as there was only a slight hint of grey in his well-kept brown hair and only a few thin lines around his eyes and mouth. He was clean shaved, a unique trait to see from a mercenary, and the closer he got the clearer his confident smirk became.

Corrine raised her gun.

"Not one step closer, you bastard." She warned as her finger tensed on the trigger. "You'll tell me why the fuck you're on my station and maybe I'll let you live. I'm sure the Illusive Man would love to hear first-hand how someone so small thought he had the balls to take on Cerberus."

The man chuckled, seemingly not threatened by her bluster.

"Just as full of shit as he said you'd be," he mused, "Dr. Corrine Knowles, the brilliant mind behind some of Cerberus's most disgusting 'experiments'." He gave an exaggerated bow, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"So you know who I am, what of it?"

The man quirked an eyebrow, curious, "Don't you wish to know who I am?"

Corrine snorted, "What I 'wish' is for you to get the fuck off my station, but I don't get the feeling you'd oblige me."

"Oh, I have every intention of leaving," the man admitted, "once I have 'Valkyrie' of course."

Corrine shook her head, "Not going to happen, asshole."

"It's Doctor Marin," he said coolly, "and I'm here for a friend. You might not know him…but you should be familiar with his wife."

Corrine's eyes went wide and her firearm lowered ever so slightly.

"Kathryn Eklund?" Marin took a step forward, hate and disgust for her resonating from every pore of his body, "You tortured her for months to bring 'Valkyrie' into the world. I've seen the files, Knowles. I know what the eezo and radiation did to Eira."

"You know nothing," Corrine spat angrily, "Everything we did was to benefit humanity!"

"We?" He shouted, the veins in his neck bulging from his boiling anger, his voice echoing throughout the hanger, "You, Corrine, you gave the orders. I might be too late to help Kathryn, but I can do right by her by freeing her daughter from your control."

Marin glared, seeing the distant look in her eyes, and squeezed off a single shot that connected with Corrine's hand and sent her weapon flying off to the side. She screamed and fell to the ground, clutching her bloodied, mangled hand against her chest.

"Fuck, fuck!" Corrine hissed under her breath as she scrambled to back away from him as he approached.

Marin kept his weapon poised, his finger teasingly caressing the trigger. He made a promise to see this through, to break Eira out of the station, but he couldn't deny his intense desire to see the end of the woman before him for himself. Images replayed in his mind of the reports and files he'd managed to gather regarding Project Valkyrie. His friend emaciated and in pain on a gurney, chemicals being pumped into her body in order to manipulate the life growing within her. He wasn't certain those images could ever be washed from his mind.

"You couldn't have truly thought this day wouldn't come." Marin asked as he looked down the length of his gun at her, "It's time to pay for your crimes, Corrine." His body tensed as certainty settled in his bones, "Julian sends his regards."

He pulled the trigger and Corrine lurched backwards, dead before she hit the ground.

* * *

Eira stopped in her tracks, momentarily taken aback by the sudden single gunshot echoing down the corridor.

_What the hell?_

She took a tentative step forward before stopping herself. Running towards it or running away…what was the right thing to do?

The part of her that was terrified wanted to get as far away from it as possible, and that part was very large inside her heart. But the small, lingering chance that Corrine could be at the source of the gunshot, perhaps taking down an enemy, prompted her to continue in its direction.


	5. Valkyrie Down

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Mass Effect, save the OCs you will encounter in this particular story. It will not merely be a re-telling of the ME story as we know it, so expect changes and (hopefully) surprising and enjoyable twists! This story is rated M for a reason and will contain future scenes of violence, gore, sex, and various other mature situations. There will also be copious amounts of wonderful, wonderful angst. Please consider yourself warned.

I apologize for the delay, work has been throwing the hours at me and I've had little time to do anything other than sleep! I hope this chapter makes up for my tardiness! In it, 'Valkyrie' finally meets Shepard!

Any and all reviews are appreciated! I'm really excited for this story and I've got a lot of ideas to work into it! Please feel free to let me know what you think! A big thank you goes out to everyone who has added this story to their alerts :) – Fallon.

**Chapter Four**

"_What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." – Henry Stanley Haskins_

Shepard halted, the single blast of a gun stopping him in his tracks.

"What the hell was that?" Jacob questioned from behind him, his gun raised and eyes scanning the intersection of hallways they had come to.

The entire station had been a maze of narrow hallways and winding side passages. On more than one occasion it had only been due to the schematics EDI provided that they didn't veer off course or find themselves at a dead end.

Looking at the schematics on his omni-tool, Shepard saw that they were just outside of what they suspected to be the living quarters. A small hanger was nearby and likely contained the station's escape shuttles. If anyone was still alive chances were good that was where they were heading.

"It came from down there," Miranda nodded to the hallway on her left, "Could be one of the mercs finishing off one of the station's staff."

She pointed in the direction of the hanger the maps had shown.

"Or 'Valkyrie' herself," Shepard said, determination, starting down the corridor Miranda had indicated, "Come on, we're running out of time."

* * *

Marin stepped forward and looked down at the still-warm body of Corrine Knowles. His shot had hit her square in the chest, tearing through bone and obliterating a heart he had been doubtful had ever existed. Blood bubbled to the surface, saturating the crisp white of her lab coat and blouse and trickling down her sides.

A single shot had done it, had rid the galaxy of a woman so blinded by the propagandized bullshit Cerberus had been feeding her that she hadn't been able to clearly see the evil she had committed.

He took a small step back as the puddle of blood blossoming out from around her threatened to touch his boots.

_Dead. Finally dead. Good riddance._

But that was merely step one of his mission. There was still Eira to find, contain and return to her rightful place. It was only then that he could truly say he had done right by Kathryn.

The sound of hurried footsteps pulled him from his thoughts and he spun around, raising his gun just in time to see a small party of well-armed soldiers enter the hanger. They spotted him and raised their weapons.

One of the party, a woman clad in a skin-tight black and white suit, had a Cerberus logo plastered over her breast and a Cerberus issued pistol tight in her grasp. He recognized her: Miranda Lawson. He had seen her only in passing a time or two, but knew she was close to the Illusive Man, part of something so heavily encrypted and classified that he hadn't been able to get past the firewalls on its files.

Next to her stood Jacob Taylor, another name Marin was familiar with. He'd never felt the need to pay Taylor any mind however, as the former Alliance soldier turned Cerberus puppet was nothing more than a pawn in a far greater game.

Neither of them mattered. As far as he was concerned, they were followers of the same bullshit, the same lies Knowles had followed so strictly.

No, they didn't matter.

The third person in their party, the one undoubtedly leading it, did however.

Marin smirked, strangely pleased that he had been right – the rumors were true.

_Julian owes me two hundred creds._

"Commander Shepard," Marin took a small step to the side, his gun still raised, "Fancy meeting you here."

Shepard tentatively approached, gun poised and finger readied on the trigger. He saw the body behind the stranger, saw the blood. The situation before him was tense, but he took a deep steadying breath and willed weak feelings like apprehension and uncertainty from his body. He stood confident, in control, cool. Here he was a commander; there was room for nothing else. Training, and loss, had taught him that.

His gaze fixed on the stranger before him, "You have me at a disadvantage…?"

"Doctor Nikolai Marin," he gave a small nod in place of a bow, "Former Cerberus puppet, current…well, I suppose you could call me a gun for hire." He smirked, "I'd heard you were dead. Never thought some like you would be working for Cerberus."

"With, not for." Shepard corrected sharply, "Are these mercs under your command?"

"They are." Marin answered coolly, "Here to help me reclaim what was…stolen from a good friend of mine."

"You mean Valkyrie?" Miranda asked from behind Shepard, a wry smile on her lips, "The girl isn't yours to take. Project Valkyrie belongs to Cerberus. And she'll be coming with us."

"She's a human being," Marin snapped at Miranda, her confidence striking a nerve, "She can't _belong_ to anyone! But I can see how you'd think that, Cerberus was always willing to disregard the rights of a few to _better_ humanity." Marin laughed, "Ah, the selfless claims of the Illusive Man! And you believe it without question! Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe what you're willing to sacrifice is the very thing you should be protecting?"

Shepard was immediately struck by the overwhelming pain in the man's voice. Miranda and Jacob might have merely seen a mad man ranting, but to Shepard that pain could only come from truth. The doctor's glare was intense, the anger and hatred he held for Cerberus clear and undeniable. It consumed him, causing his body to shake in fury as he stood before them.

This man, regardless of where his loyalties lied or who he truly was, clearly knew more about 'Valkyrie' than he was saying. But the way he referred to her made Shepard think that perhaps he held a personal connection to the girl.

Not knowing for sure though made him feel like he was fighting in the dark. Shepard knew the Illusive Man hadn't revealed everything about the project, that much was plainly obvious, and that fact alone compelled him to want to learn more, to discover why Valkyrie was worth so much effort and secrecy.

"What the hell is he talking about?" Jacob hissed under his breath, glaring at Miranda from the corner of his eye questioningly.

She shook her head, a scowl on her face, "The man's lost his mind."

Shepard ignored them, his gaze never straying from Marin.

"Why is she worth protecting, Marin?" He asked sternly, his tone leaving no room for the doctor to dodge or delay.

Marin laughed, "Did the Illusive Man not have the courtesy to fill you in Shepard?" He didn't wait for an answer, knowing it already, "Eira is truly one of a kind. Her biotics aren't –

From above them, the massive glass wall of an office overlooking the hanger exploded, sending thousands of shards of glass and metal raining down on them. Marin attempted to leap out of the way, moving quickly to get out of the falling cloud of debris and taking cover near a metal crate. Shepard shouted as he moved, his voice drowned out by the echoing crash of a hundred pounds of rubble hitting the ground, catching only glimpses of Miranda and Jacob following as he ducked and rolled out of the way.

There was a brief moment of silence, broken by a heart-wrenching scream that faded into a deep, guttural sob.

Just as Shepard registered the cry through the chaos, the air in the room changed. He felt it shift, as if being sucked upward, toward the source of the scream.

He moved to look up, but only caught a quick glimpse of something, or someone, stark white before all hell broke loose.

A pulse of energy, marked by crisp blue waves that spread outward like ripples in water, struck Shepard, a great weight hitting him square in the chest, throwing him back violently. He grunted as his back made contact with the wall, his breath being torn from his chest by the sheer force of the hit. He fell to the ground in a heap, gasping desperately, his shocked body trying hurriedly to suck in air.

_Breathe…just….breathe…_

He blinked once, twice to clear the fog that clouded his vision and looked up, searching the hanger for the source of the blast while pawing at the ground around him, grasping for his weapon with a sense of panic that brought him back to Akuze.

Screams…so much blood…the agonizing burn of maw acid hitting flesh…its venom sinking into his blood…

"Shepard!"

He shook off the memory and saw Jacob approaching him. The Cerberus operative's focus was elsewhere however, fixed upward. Shepard saw how wide his eyes were, saw him hesitate and ultimately slowly lower his firearm.

Shepard turned to see what had shaken him.

Suspended in the air by pulses of biotic energy that wrapped around her body like a shroud, a young girl slowly descended from the ruined office, her movements precise and controlled. Her long silvery hair was loose around her, flowing freely behind her as she made her descent. Her skin was in stark contrast to the dark shirt and shorts she wore, so pale that from a distance it looked truly white.

"Looks like Valkyrie found us…" Jacob muttered under his breath to no one in particular.

Shepard got to his feet, Valkyrie's appearance pulling him mercifully back to the present and to the mission at hand. His head throbbed from the hit he'd taken, but he pushed that aside for the moment, focusing instead on the young girl whose anger he could now see clearly.

Her eyes were glowing, their true colour impossible to discern with the smoke-like wisps of biotic energy emanating from them. Her brow was furrowed and as her bare feet touched the cold metal ground, he could see tear streaks running down her dust covered cheeks.

Marin stumbled forward, moving closer to Valkyrie and the cooling body of Knowles.

"Eira!" He exclaimed with a bright smile, his entire posture relaxed as if a great weight had been eased from his shoulders. "Thank God! I've come to free you!"

The young girl ignored him but her biotics ceased flaring and her hands fell to a relax position at her sides. Her focus didn't falter from the body of Knowles.

Shepard looked at Valkyrie.

With the fog from his mind cleared, Shepard could see that albinism had left her skin, hair and eyes without colour. That, coupled with her impressive biotic display, left little doubt in his mind that this was the girl they were looking for.

Her silence concerned him and he moved to the side, hoping for a better look at her face. Her eyes were wide, her red tinted irises gleaming with the sheen of tears barely held back. Her lips were slightly parted and he could see her chin trembling – shock ripping through her small frame like a blade.

She sank to her knees, seemingly unaware that she was kneeling in a pool of blood, and tentatively reached out to touch the dead woman's face. Lingering warmth remained in the woman's body and Eira recoiled in surprise, only to have her gaze fall upon the crater of a wound in Knowles' chest.

A soft, wounded whine left her and she slowly wrapped her arms around herself.

Shepard holstered his weapon. The girl was in shock, that much was obvious, and he didn't want to make her feel threatened anymore that she already did.

"Eira?" He started softly, mindful not to startle her, "Eira, I need you to look at me."

She swallowed hard and looked at him from the corner of her eye, not trusting herself with any greater movement.

"I'm Commander Shepard. The Illusive Man asked me to come here to bring you somewhere safe –

"He's lying!" Marin shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Shepard, "The Illusive Man only wants to –

"You killed her…" Eira bowed her head. Tears slipped down her cheeks and fell onto the bloody lab coat of the closest thing to a mother she had ever known. "She was my everything and you killed her…"

Dismayed by her words, Marin pulled back. His confusion and hurt were painted on his face and he tried to reach her again, having come too far to let anything, even Valkyrie herself, get in the way of him saving her.

"That woman is a murderer, Eira," he said with a venomous hiss, "She tortured your _real_ mother, and she exposed you to chemicals while you were in your mother's womb! It was all to turn you into a weapon for Cerberus to use, to manipulate!"

Eira clasped her hands over her ears and clenched her eyes shut, her confusion and pain causing her biotics to flare. Blue wisps of energy whipped out around her and struck Marin, throwing him off balance and crashing to the ground.

"You killed her!" Eira growled through clenched teeth, "She was all I had and you killed her!"

She looked up at Marin, her eyes glowing vibrant blue.

She felt it, that beautiful surge of energy she'd once been so afraid of. It was flowing through her, seeping into every pore in a rush stronger than anything she'd ever experienced. It was stronger than adrenaline and coursed through her veins in a flash, overwhelming her mind with a sudden draining force.

Eira sprung to her feet and drew back her arm. Her fingers tingled with biotic energy and she pulled it into her palm, into a pure orb of force, before striking, moving as if to punch Marin but instead hitting him with a single, massive pulse of biotic power.

He went flying, cutting through the air like a bullet leaving a gun and careening into the wall with enough force to crack the metal and concrete as well as the protective coating of his armor.

Eira inhaled sharply and turned to face Shepard.

Instead of ebbing and fading away like it usually did, her powers flared. Every nerve sparked to life and she opened her eyes wide and screamed as control was ripped from her. Blasts of her biotics burst forth from her, striking the ceiling and shuttles indiscriminately.

Shepard narrowly missed a blast himself, rolling out of the way at the last possible second.

He heard Joker's voice in his earpiece.

"Commander? What the hell is going on down there? We're getting all kinds of strange readings!"

Shepard grunted as a blast clipped his shoulder, ripping away a small chunk of his shoulder guard. He felt his shoulder blade slip out of place and bit his lip to stifle a scream.

He cursed under his breath, and then quickly pressed his fingers to his earpiece.

"Get the Normandy's shuttle in position, Joker!" He looked to Eira and saw that the energy surges were still wracking her body, "This isn't going to be a clean exit!"

"Aye, aye!" Joker stammered before shouting a command to the ensigns and signing out.

Shepard stepped forward, approaching Eira.

"You need to calm down, kid!" He said in a calm but stern voice, "No one is going to hurt you, you have my word!"

Pitiful sobs tore from the distraught biotic and with a violent shake she fell to her knees. Her biotics waned some, but slow whorls of energy still spun slowly around her.

Shepard took a quick glanced back at Miranda and Jacob, making sure they were both alright and had his back, before stepping closer to Eira. His left shoulder throbbed with a sharp pain, his dislocated joint screaming for medical attention, but he pressed forward.

Her biotics quickly dying down, Shepard recognized what he had seen earlier – a young girl overwhelmed and completely devastated by the scene before her. Sobs wracked her small frame and her eyes had returned to normal.

Willing to take the risk of opening himself up to an attack, he knelt before her. He heard Miranda protest, but ignored her to focus on the biotic before him.

Under a red tinted lens her eyes looked almost lavender. They remained wide with shock but he could also see exhaustion and hopelessness there too.

"Eira?"

She meekly looked up at him, then hissed and clutched her head. Her skull pounded fiercely and her vision blurred so badly she was having trouble making out the face of the man before her.

Who had he said he was? She thought for a moment. Shepard! Commander….Cerberus…

Mind overloaded, her biotics fizzled out and her head spun.

Shepard reached out to steady her, "Woh, hang in there, kid."

She closed her eyes to block out the blinding light of the room, unknowingly leaning into Shepard's hand as she fought to keep herself upright.

"You…" she breathed softly, "You are with Cerberus?"

"I'm working with them, yes." He clutched her shoulder to keep her from falling forward on her face, "Come on, kid, let's get you out of here."

"Commander we have to get out of here!" Miranda shouted and pointed to the hanger's ceiling, "This place isn't stable!"

Shepard saw what she was pointing at and quickly pulling the girl forward. She didn't protest and allowed him to awkwardly pull her into his arms. Her head rested on his shoulder and he stood, forcing his left arm to cooperate and support the weight of her legs as he lifted her. Mercifully she was light enough that the pain wasn't as bad as he'd feared.

He looked down to make sure she was well only to see that she had passed out; her arms limp around his neck.

He hurried out the way they had come; Miranda and Jacob close behind him. He heard the ceiling give out just as they left the hanger and tightened his grip on the unconscious girl in his arms.


	6. The Wild Card, Part I

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Mass Effect, save the OCs you will encounter in this particular story. It will not merely be a re-telling of the ME story as we know it, so expect changes and (hopefully) surprising and enjoyable twists! This story is rated M for a reason and will contain future scenes of violence, gore, sex, and various other mature situations. There will also be copious amounts of wonderful, wonderful angst. Please consider yourself warned.

For those of you who are curious, the inspiration for my Eira is 'Nastya Zhidkova'. Check out her pictures in a Google search and you'll see where the idea of Eira was born.

Any and all reviews are appreciated! A big thank you goes out to everyone who has added this story to their alerts and/or faves :) I apologize for the delay, I've been super busy at work and have hardly had any time to think let alone write. I hope this chapter makes up for my tardiness! – Fallon.

**Chapter Five**

"_Brave men are all vertebrates; they have their softness on the surface and their toughness in the middle" – Lewis Carroll_

Consciousness returned to her slowly, the fog of confusion lifting from her as if a shroud was dissipating around her.

She tried to open her eyes, but they fluttered closed weakly. Her head throbbed with a fierceness that called tears to her eyes and she covered her eyes with her hands, rubbing the moisture away.

Her eyes squeezed tight to keep out even the smallest ray of light, she relied on her other senses to gauge her surroundings.

She could hear voices, the grunt of a man in pain, and the gentle hum of machines and computers. That hum was familiar to her. On the station, in the room that had been hers, the hum of the vents had often lulled her to sleep. In the medical exam room, where Corrine had run so many tests on her, it had been the soft thrum of the scanners so often run across her body.

Her mind immediately reached out for what was familiar and she found herself worried that she would be late for one of her lessons with Corrine. But the events at Nafna Station began to worm their way back into her mind and she remembered, with a heavy heart, that Corrine and that life had been torn from her.

Eira opened her eyes only to be blinded by the fluorescent lights that hung about her. She moved her hand to shield her eyes and, squinting, she made out the shadows of two figures in the room.

"Commander, please, you're not making this any easier!" An older woman with short grey hair chided. "Surely this isn't the worst injury you've suffered?"

The man she was speaking to grunted and shifted on his feet.

Eira rubbed her eyes to clear the blur that obscured her vision. Tentatively, she tried to better make out the figures.

The man was shirtless, wearing only armoured greaves and boots from a hard-suit. He was extremely fit, his arms and chest tight with well sculpted muscle. Pictures decorated his left arm from shoulder to wrist and while she couldn't make them out, she could tell they were very detailed. His dark hair was cropped closely to his head and his face was…

The man, having felt the weight of her gaze on him, looked up to catch her staring at him.

Eira blushed and immediately averted her gaze, chewing fiercely on her lip.

Just as his lips parted to speak, the older woman finally worked his shoulder back into its socket and the man shouted a cursed and winced, his handsome features twisting in pain.

The woman gave a warm smirk and patted the man's uninjured shoulder, "There. Now that wasn't so hard was it, Commander?"

He reached for his shirt and began the slow, painful task of putting it on without aggravating his shoulder too badly.

He hesitated, wringing the shirt in his hands and staring off into nothingness, before shaking his head.

"Not the worst, no."

His voice was quiet and solemn and Eira had a feeling his response was more to himself than the older woman.

"Our guest is awake," the man said with a grunt, nodding in her direction, "Get your questions ready, Doc."

The woman turned around quickly and smiled, clasping her hands together as she took a step toward her.

"Wonderful," she fetched a data-pad from her desk and started looking over the readings on the screens hooked up to monitor Eira's vitals, "You had us worried there, child. I am Doctor Karin Chakwas and you're on the SSV Normandy." The Doctor looked over her shoulder to the man, who had finally succeeded in donning his shirt. "I believe you have already met Commander Shepard. He and his crew got you off of that station."

The man she called Shepard was tentatively rubbing his sore arm. His discomfort was written plainly on his face, but as he sat down on the table across from her it seemed like he had pushed it to the back of his mind.

"Oh, we've met," Shepard gestured to his bad shoulder, "You threw me across the hanger, remember?"

Eira gasped, "I…oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to!" She hung her head, "I wasn't sure who you were, but it wasn't you I wanted to hurt…I just…"

"Couldn't control it," Shepard finished for her, "I know, and it's alright. Like Chakwas said, this is hardly the worst I've been dealt."

Eira looked up and saw that he was smiling, his lips quirked in a small smirk that made her insides twist into a tight bundle in her stomach. Growing up in relative seclusion on the station, she'd only ever been surrounded by the same distant group of technicians. To many she was next to invisible, to most she was merely a test subject. It was silly, and the very thought made her feel like a blubbering little girl, but he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

"Well…all the same, I'm very sorry." She brushed her hair out of her face, sneaking a quick rub of her cheek to try to banish the flush she knew still lingered there. "If I may ask, w-why were you on the station in the first place?"

"To find you," Shepard said, his tone growing more serious as they got to the matter at hand, "The Illusive Man said you might be a benefit to our mission and after what I saw on Nafna I'm inclined to agree."

Mission? Whatever it was, Eira could tell it was serious. All sense of friendly warmth the commander had been emitting not moments before had vanished, now he was all business. His talk of missions made her nervous. She was no one special, regardless of what Corrine had insisted all those times. Her biotics were strong, yes, but she knew nothing of the world outside Nafna Station…what real benefit could she have to these people?

Eira cleared her throat and reluctantly found her voice, "Mission?"

Shepard leaned forward, his elbows propped on his knees as he looked at her.

"I'm assembling a team of mercenaries, scientists and assassins to take on the Collectors. We have reason to believe they are working for the Reapers and have been systematically abducting human colonies along the fringes of Terminus space. I want you on my team, Eira."

Eira blinked repeatedly, struggling to take in his words. She was shocked by the seriousness in his voice and confused by the weight of his words. What was a Reaper? Or a Collector for that matter?

Shepard evidently saw her confusion.

His brow furrowed and he slowly shook his head, clearly in disbelief. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you? You don't even know who I am?"

Eira hesitated, slightly embarrassed that she was so clueless, but ultimately shook her head. "Until now I've never been off of the station you found me on," she explained, "Corrine never let me use the…extranet, I think you call it. I only knew what she told me." She gave a small shrug and looked meekly up at the commander, "I'm sorry…clearly this is all important and something I should know but…"

Her voice wavered and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Everything's changed," she stammered, her chin trembling as she spoke, "Corrine is dead…"

Chakwas sat down her datapad and reached out to her, tenderly rubbing her back. "I'm so sorry, dear. This has been terrible for you."

"Corrine," Shepard said softly, "Was she the dead woman in the hanger?"

Eira nodded, "Doctor Corrine Knowles…" She roughly brushed her tears aside, "She was in charge of taking care of me and conducting my training, as well as a bunch of tests I never fully understood." She shook her head, trying to shake the horrible feeling of dread that was looming over her and make sense of the events of the past twenty-four hours.

Chakwas shared a look with Shepard before speaking, "Can you tell us about her, and of your life on the station, Eira? Why were you secluded?" She kept rubbing circles on Eira's back, "Do you truly know nothing about the Reapers or…well, anything other than that station?"

Eira shrugged, "Corrine said I was special, I never fully understood why exactly. I was born on the station; at least…at least I think I was. I've never been anywhere else that I can remember. I was allowed to read, but like I said, I wasn't allowed to use the extranet." She wracked her brain for answers and insights she felt were on the tip of her tongue, "I read about different species and planets. About the asari, turians, ancient races, human history and the discovery of mass effect fields, but nothing about 'Collectors' or 'Reapers'. When I wasn't studying, Corrine ran tests and simulations. I think…maybe she was preparing me for something, I don't know what though."

Shepard sighed, "Eira, look at me," when she did he continued, "I'm going to fill you in. It'll be a lot to throw at you, but you need to know what's going on. Let me speak, and then Chakwas and I will answer any questions you have."

Eira looked back to Chakwas, and upon receiving her smile, turned to Shepard and nodded.

"Fifty-thousand years ago, the race known as the Protheans was whipped out."

That much Eira knew. She'd read about them in one of the books Corrine had provided her. They'd built the mass relays, gigantic machines able to propel ships all over the galaxy at lightning fast speeds, and something called the Citadel which she understood to be a massive spaceport. All that was left of their empire was ruins now, ruins which Eira had always dreamt of seeing.

Shepard went on, "We never knew what had destroyed them, until nearly three years ago when I encountered a beacon on Eden Prime and was shown a vision. They were destroyed by the Reapers, sentient machines which exterminate the most advanced races in existence every fifty-thousand years. Three years ago my team and I stopped an attempt to open a gateway for them from dark space." He paused, as if unsure of how to continue, "And then, two years ago, I died."

Eira's eyes opened wide. She moved to speak, but Shepard raised his hand to silence her.

"Cerberus recovered my body. They gave me my life back. In return I agreed to look into the rash of missing human colonies for them, and ultimately discovered that the Collectors were responsible. Now, we're all convinced they are working for the Reapers, but we need to go beyond the Omega 4 relay in order to find concrete answers and stop them at the source. No ship has ever returned from a trip through the relay, but I'm assembling a team to do just that."

Eira tried to hurriedly process everything he'd just said. It all seemed so farfetched, that conscious machines could be attempting to do what he claimed. Honestly it sounded like something out of one of the 'make-believe' stories Corrine had always chastised her for reading so obsessively.

"That's merely the abridged version of course," Chakwas spoke with a heavy sigh laden with sadness, "It's hard to sum up everything we've learned these past few years."

"Files will be made available to you," Shepard continued, "As well as my reports going back to Eden Prime and everything we've got on the Reapers. I don't expect an answer now. Get up to speed and then we'll talk about your place on this team."

Chakwas rubbed Eira's shoulder and gathered up her long, loose hair, pulling it back out of her face and tying it back with what she could only assume was a rubber band. She looked back at the woman over her shoulder and saw her punching something into her omnitool.

Eira choked on a sob. It was a simple act, and a motherly one.

She wanted to be back on Nafna Station, back with Corrine in her old life; a life where such threatening beings didn't exist and her days were dreadfully boring.

She felt a warm, strong hand cover her own and turned back. The commander was looking at her, his hand unmoving from its position atop hers. He seemed to understand where her mind was wandering to and though she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, she gave a small nod to acknowledge his gesture.

Chakwas broke the silence.

"I have a few more questions for you, dear, but I need to start with a scan." She explained as she raised her omni-tool. "The Normandy recorded energy outputs from the station, namely you. We need to get a better understanding of your biotics."

Eira blinked away tears and looked at the doctor, "Why?"

"We need to know what type of implant you have. If you have an L2 for instance, then we have to make sure you don't over-exert yourself or you'd be risking a serious neurological injury."

Shepard pulled back, giving Chakwas the room she needed to work.

Chakwas waved her omni-tool over Eira, circling around her numerous times before a chime signaled that the scan was complete. It was only when the chime sounded that Eira allowed herself to breathe again. She'd always felt…exposed whenever a scan was being conducted of her. Corrine had done hundreds on her and while Eira was never sure what she was hoping to learn from them, it had been obvious enough that something important rode on them.

Eira looked down at her hands and began wringing her fingers nervously.

Chakwas was focused on her omni-tool, so Eira looked to Shepard.

"That man that killed Corrine…"

Shepard's gaze snapped back to her. "He said his name was Doctor Nikolai Marin."

"The things he said…" she paused to steady herself, taking a deep breath to calm the shiver that ran through her, "Do you know if they were true?"

Shepard shook his head, "The files Cerberus provided me on you were full of holes. Truthfully, you're one hell of an unknown, kid."

Confused and unsure of his meaning, Eira frowned, "And that…angers you?"

"It's frustrating," he admitted with a sigh, "I'm in charge of this mission, of this team. I need to have absolute faith in every member of that team if we're to stand a chance of succeeding. You're strong and that's just what I need for this mission, but…" his voice faded out and she could tell something was weighing on him. He shook it off, "But we've got a lot more to fill you in on; then we'll let you make the decision for yourself."

Just as Eira was about to respond, Chakwas gasped and stepped between them, forcing a datapad into Shepard's hands.

"What is it?" Eira asked tentatively, wary of interrupting but unable to fight the urge, "Is there something wrong with the scans?"

Shepard's eyes were glued to the information before him and Eira couldn't tell if the surprise on his face didn't very well contain traces of anger too.

She looked to Chakwas, "What –

Shepard stood, thrusting the datapad back into Chakwas' hands and making for the door.

"Commander!" Eira slid off the table, "Did I do something wrong? Please, tell me. Is there something wrong with the scan? Something wrong with me?"

Shepard stopped, sparing her a glance over his shoulder and the very hint of a sympathetic smile. "No, kid, you haven't done anything wrong. Just stay with Doctor Chakwas, I'll be right back."

As he left, Chakwas began yet another scan.


	7. The Wild Card, Part II

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Mass Effect, save the OCs you will encounter in this particular story. It will not merely be a re-telling of the ME story as we know it, so expect changes and (hopefully) surprising and enjoyable twists! This story is rated M for a reason and will contain future scenes of violence, gore, sex, and various other mature situations. There will also be copious amounts of wonderful, wonderful angst. Please consider yourself warned.

For those of you who are curious, the inspiration for my Eira is 'Nastya Zhidkova'. Check out her pictures in a Google search and you'll see where the idea of Eira was born!

Any and all reviews are appreciated! A big thank you goes out to everyone who has added this story to their alerts and/or faves :) – Fallon.

**Chapter Six**

_"No single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. To live is to be slowly born. It would be a bit too easy if we could go about borrowing ready-made souls" – Antoine de Saint-Exupery_

"What do you mean she has no implant?" Miranda demanded angrily as she paced the med bay, circling Eira like a vulture.

"I _mean_ there is no implant to be seen," Chakwas sighed, making no attempt to hide her frustration with the woman, "I scanned her three times, Ms. Lawson. I'll scan her again if you'd like, but the results will be the same. Element zero nodes are present throughout her nervous system but I see no signs of any attempts to implant a biotic amp."

Eira swallowed hard.

Everyone seemed mad at her but no one had had the decency yet to fill her in. What was an implant? And why was it so horrible that she not have one? Did not having one make her a freak?

Eira pouted and nervously twisted her fingers in her lap until they ached.

She turned to Shepard, who had yet to say anything since returning with the woman Doctor Chakwas referred to as Lawson.

He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his pale blue eyes following the irate woman striding back and forth before them. He was stone-faced and Eira couldn't tell if he was angry at the situation or, more specifically, at her.

"That's impossible, Doctor," Lawson declared for the hundredth time, "Human biotics without implants have weak biotic abilities that inevitably falter out and become non-existent!"

Chakwas pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head, "You were there; Miranda and you've seen the readings."

Miranda turned to Eira, a profound scowl on her face, "Do you have anything to say for yourself, Valkyrie?"

Eira stammered trying to search for something, anything to say to the intimidating woman. She felt herself shying away from her, moving cautiously backwards on the table to put as much distance between her and Miranda as she could.

Shepard saw her recoil out of the corner of his eye, saw her begin nervously chewing on her bottom lip. His gaze shot back to Miranda, who, if she noticed the fear painted on Eira's face, clearly didn't care enough to cut the confrontational bullshit.

He stood and approached Eira as she sat shaking on the table, her knees now pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them in an attempt to make herself as small as possible.

"Eira," Shepard said, interrupting the tense silence, "Her name is Eira, Miranda; and if I knew you were going to try interrogating her like a prisoner of war I'd have gone to someone with better sense."

Miranda's gaze snapped back to him and she fumed, "Shepard, she's been holding out on us. She could be a threat."

Shepard immediately dismissed the possibility, "The Illusive Man sent us to get her from that station, Miranda. Do you really think your _beloved _Cerberus would set us up like that? With the threat of the Collectors looming over us? Not likely."

Miranda glared at the commander, but backed down and muttered a forced apology. She didn't leave like Eira was hoping for but instead kept to the perimeter of the room, her lethal gaze still fixed on her.

Eira swallowed hard. She wanted to run away, find someplace far, far away and stay there forever. Her fear flared her biotics to life and sent pulses of energy bubbling to her skin. She saw Chakwas and Miranda take another step back and vaguely registered that her biotics were active, their protective force wrapping around her skin.

"Eira!" Shepard's voice was stern but lacked the sting of true anger.

She glanced up to see him standing before her. Her biotics calmed down, retreating back inside of her as the perceived threat that had caused them to flare seemed less imposing.

Eira felt her chin trembled and stammered, "Y-Yes?"

"Do you know why you don't have a biotic implant?" He asked calmly, ignoring the frustrated sighs coming from Miranda as he took his time and went out of his way to ensure nothing about his body language spelled 'threat' to her.

Eira bit her lip and quickly shook her head.

"I don't even know what that is…" She admitted in a whisper.

Miranda grumbled behind him but Shepard ignored her. It was clear to him she was only interested in taking out her frustration at not being trusted with the knowledge of Eira's unique abilities on the girl herself, something that irritated Shepard immensely. It was cold of her, and especially considering she had been with him when they'd met Eira on the station, he'd expected her to be more understanding.

It was clear there was a great deal the Illusive Man hadn't told them and he knew they'd eventually have to wade through his lies, but he expected Miranda to see that bombarding Eira with accusations wasn't going to get them anywhere.

Clearly the Illusive Man had kept her in the dark as well. What bothered Shepard was why. An asset surely lost its usefulness if it didn't know even a sliver of its potential or its limitations. It seemed like a slip-up on the Illusive Man's part, which only made Shepard even more convinced that the move had been anything but.

"Implants are given to young people who show an aptitude for biotics," Chakwas explained, "They are grafted into the brain of the patient and allow for the biotic nodes in the nervous system to focus their energy to form attacks, move objects or create shields. Humans need these implants, until now there have been no cases of biotic powers remaining any longer than a few years without the aid of an amp to harness and direct the power."

"There is usually a port at the base of a biotics' skull," Shepard continued, "right about here." He rose and approached her, moving slowly so as not to startle her, and reached out to place his fingers on the back of her neck just near her hairline. "It allows a biotic to turn off their amp for periods of time to avoid…well, _overheating_, for lack of a better word."

Eira remained tense until Shepard pulled back, but that small, simple touch hadn't been entirely unpleasant. It had been gentle and brief and when she took a small glance up, searching for his eyes, she saw in him what she had felt in that touch – a degree of understanding and sympathy that Miranda seemed incapable of.

"How…how is it I can do what I can do without one then?" She looked to Chakwas, hoping for an answer.

The doctor gave a small shrug, "I'm sorry, dear, but I have no idea. If I didn't know any better, judging from the readings we took from the station when you were actively using your biotics, I'd have thought you were an asari. They do not require implants to use their biotics effectively, nor do they need special training to develop a conscious neural control of their powers. It's a part of their physiology though," she smiled, "and it's rather obvious you are no asari."

"Did you need to work on it?" Shepard asked, glancing to Chakwas, "On your 'neural control'?"

Eira shook her head. "I…I didn't; not for control at least. Corrine had me undergo training and different simulations to test my endurance and combat-readiness, but nothing about_ how_ to use my biotics. They always seemed…at my finger-tips, you could say…"

Shepard nodded, "Do you have any side effects? Anything that could perhaps be contributed to the fact that you have no implant, Eira?"

He was trying to get a better sense of her capabilities and limitations. If he was going to begin entertaining the notion of her going on missions with him as part of his ground team he needed more answers. Even before he died, Shepard had never gone on any assignment, no matter how small, without knowing the strengths and weaknesses of those who had his back. It was something he wasn't going to start now.

And considering the…unique biotic abilities of the girl in front of him, caution and a better understanding were needed to settle the uncertainty she raised in him.

"I have really bad headaches sometimes," Eira admitted, looking to Shepard and Chakwas for any sign of disappointment, "After a really long simulation, one where I'd use my biotics for hours, the light…would make my eyes hurt. Then the headache would set in. I tried to work through them for...for Corrine. And meditation helped some."

Chakwas nodded as she recorded notes on her datapad, "I will begin searching for options to help you with that, dear. And I fully intend to monitor you closely to make sure we haven't missed anything." She turned to the commander, "Shepard, given what we've learned perhaps the Illusive Man would be more…inclined to provide us with Eira's medical records?"

He mulled over her words for a moment and nodded, though his features were grim.

He wasn't naïve enough to think the Illusive Man was going to hand _everything_ he had on Eira over. Still, he nodded. There was no reason, just yet, to voice his doubts.

Miranda sighed, "Since you seem intent on keeping her, where do you intend to stow her, Shepard?"

Her voice pulled him from his thoughts and he glanced up to see Miranda glaring at him.

"For now the port observation deck will work." He clasped Chakwas' shoulder, "You finish up with her here, doc. I'll have some of the crew pull up a cot from the cargo bay; try to make it comfortable for her."

"I…I don't need anything special, Commander," Eira hurriedly said, paling at the notion of the fuss she had caused, "I don't want to cause you or your crew any more trouble than I have already…"

Her full, pale lips fell into a pout.

Shepard looked back at her over his shoulder, his sharp retort fell dead on his lips however when he saw just how upset she was. Whether or not she considered herself as such, Shepard saw her for what she was – another victim of Cerberus' brutal drive for the "greater good" for humanity. That she was so young merely intensified his disgust for the rouge black-ops organization.

Eira didn't deserve any unnecessary coldness from him, her world had been turned on end and she needed time to make sense of everything he and Chakwas had thrown at her. Miranda and Cerberus pissed him off, Eira didn't deserve the bite of the anger they brought out in him.

He held back the frustration that threatened to work its way into his voice and smiled.

"It's no trouble, Eira. I'll have those files I mentioned brought to you and once you've had a chance to go over them I'd like to hear what you think."

Eira nodded and fell silent as Chakwas approached her to conduct another scan.

"And what are you going to do?" Miranda asked as Shepard headed for the door.

He sighed, running a hand over his shaved head, "Try to get some answers from the Illusive Man."

* * *

Eira sat cross-legged on the lounge in the port observation deck wearing the Cerberus uniform Miranda had begrudgingly provided her. Chakwas had given her a clean bill of health and allowed her to leave the med bay, going so far as to have one of her assistants give Eira a quick tour of the ship before walking her to the observation deck the Commander had allocated for her use. The cot crew members had brought up sat tucked in the corner, a pile of crisp folded sheets sitting on its corner, waiting for her use. On the desk near the bed sat a pile of datapads containing files on the Reapers, Collectors and everything else she needed to be up to speed.

Her head hurt too much to tackle them tonight though and she had told the crewman who'd brought them to her that she'd look at them first thing in the morning.

Gabriella Daniels had been the first of the crew to introduce themselves and had pulled in a favor she'd had with the requisition officer, giving Eira a refurbished Nexus omni-tool and a lesson on how to use it. Eira hadn't been able to thank Gabby enough. It was the first real gift she had ever been given, a window to the wider world she'd never had on Nafna Station, and she knew as soon as she received it she was in the engineers' debt.

Gabby had immediately dismissed the notion of course, saying it was merely a gift to welcome her to the Normandy, but Eira didn't know what to think of that. It had been a kind gesture, the sort Eira assumed friends did for each other, and she wondered hopefully if Gabby could be that for her – a friend.

Almost everyone had been good to her since her arrival on the Normandy. Doctor Chakwas had been patient and warm, and while she had expected the crew to stare few had done so blatantly or in a way that made her feel uncomfortable. Gabby had been very kind to her, and had even invited her down to the engineering deck for a "VIP tour" once she had gotten settled. And Commander Shepard had been…well, she was still trying to figure him out from what she had seen in the few encounters they had had.

He'd been frustrated but hadn't taken it out on her, if anything he'd been calm and understanding. It was clear that there was a lot he was responsible for, just as it was clear to her that there was good reason behind peoples' faith in him.

On a whim, Eira opened up her omni-tool, deftly swiping to the screen Gabby had shown her earlier and opening up a search engine. She hesitated only briefly, strangely overcome with the feeling that she was violating his privacy, but quickly shook it off and typed in 'Commander Shepard' before initiating the search.

Immediately the screen filled with dozens of results. She clicked on the first one, a feature on the commander done in 2183 by a news station based on Earth, and eagerly read.

* * *

_The only child of life-long and well-respected Alliance marines, Ryan Shepard has surely surpassed any and all expectations his parents once had for him. Born on Arcturus Station, the young Shepard spent his formative years aboard one starship or another, moving homes as his parents' posting changed. Little, however, is known about the commander's teenage years – time which the commander himself once described in an early interview as "a time when many mistakes were made, when I nearly lost myself"._

_Whatever caused Shepard such conflict is up for speculation, the man himself remains tight-lipped, but what is clear is that Captain David Anderson played a key role in guiding Ryan Shepard through the conflict in those years – and ultimately to the Alliance recruitment office when he was eighteen._

_Proving himself a natural solider early on and most notably a steadfast survivor on Akuze, Shepard shot up the ranks of the Alliance's Special Forces, earning the esteemed rank of 'N7'._

_The commander has been assigned to the SSV Normandy; a highly coveted position on a ship that has become a symbol of the potential joint-species cooperation can bring to the field. The product of human and turian design, the ship of its kind is said to be unprecedented._

_What missions the Normandy and Commander Shepard may be a part of are, of course, top-secret…_

* * *

Eira returned to the main page of the search engine and quickly typed in "N7", followed moments later by another single, simple word.

_Akuze._

* * *

Hundreds of light-years away, on a station still smouldering with the heat of fires just beginning to die out, a soot stained and bloodied hand burst forth from the rubble that blocked out precious oxygen. It scrambled for purchase, finally grasping on to a rough jut-out of concrete. The beaten down and bloodied man heaved himself up through the debris, his tattered armor catching on the rubble and slowing his movements. He grunted out a ragged curse and gritted his teeth, forcing himself to move despite the pain until finally, mercifully, he reached the surface.

Marin laughed despite the lingering danger of his situation and the small amount of oxygen he had access to at present.

What remained of his armor had saved his life, but he was far from uninjured. With one broken arm, a handful of broken ribs and God knew what else, Marin was far from safety.

But as he laughed, he realized 'alive' was good enough for him for the time being.

He'd lick his wounds, plan his next move, but in the end he would fulfil the promise he made to Eira's parents.

He'd bring her home.

One way or another, one day or the next.


End file.
